Like Father, Like Son
by Ark Navy
Summary: -Collection- Lloyd wanted to believe it. He wanted so desperately to believe with the facts before him that every word was the truth. But this lie was so thin that even as a child he could see right through it: He was not an orphan. Lloyd was abandoned.
1. Baby Talk

**Like Father, Like Son**

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**Summary**: (Collection) Kratos wonders why his son always smiles more around his mother. She tells him it's because he doesn't use "baby talk". Is a smile and giggle worth all the humiliation on the part of Mr. Stoic?

**Spoilers**: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE GOTTEN PAST THE FLANOIR SCENES.

**A/N**: This will eventually become a compilation of random Kratos and Lloyd Bonding-Stuffies/Fatherson-Stuffies/Family-Fluffies fics.

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The sun was high in the sky as the quartet made their way through the grassy fields of Sylvarant. As they walked on, Anna held their ten-month-old son in her arms with a bit of difficulty—but she accepted that trouble if it meant little Lloyd wasn't frowning or crying.

Having a few siblings after herself, Anna had learned that children in their first year were more often than not sleeping, eating, crying, or making noises and chirping sounds as they watched the world around them. Lloyd, was a different case entirely: he took after his father, who, more often than not, did _not_ sleep, eat, cry, or make noises and chirping sounds (though he did watch the world around him).

Alas, as all good thins must come to an end, Anna found her arms getting increasingly sore as Lloyd seemed to get heavier by the minute. Once he finished a great bout of giggles, she sighed in relief as she secured him onto the backside of Noishe, who trod happily behind the couple.

"That's enough for now," she said, ruffling his soft brown hair that had begun to take shape atop his small head. "Mommy's arms need a rest!"

Kratos looked behind them at the protozoan and his son—the first, completely content while the latter crossed his chubby arms sloppily across his chest and frowned back at his father, sticking out his bottom lip.

Awkwardly, the seraph looked back at the trail ahead. A few moments later, he stole a glance back at Lloyd—the boy was still glowering menacingly; in return, his father stared right back at him.

Anna noticed the miniature stare down between the two males and gave them both a queer look as she asked, "What in the world is going on between you two?"

Kratos' stare did not leave that of their sons. "Have you ever noticed Lloyd only smiles around you and Noishe?"

"I have,"

After a momentary pause, Kratos looked forward again, letting his thoughts run. "He never smiles with me..."

"Huh, I wonder why." Anna snorted sarcastically. "Kids mimic what the see; _monkey see, monkey do_. I smile at him and he smiles in response." She peeked back at their son and grinned, waving.

Lloyd's grumpiness shattered as a smile replaced his frown and he laughed happily.

Kratos was unconvinced and stubborn. "What about Noishe, then?"

"Noishe just looks funny, I guess." She replied simply, shrugging.

He knew for a fact that he had smiled at Lloyd a dozen times, but never once did he receive much more than a curious blink in response. There had to be more—there had to be a secret of the trade she wasn't telling him. "Anna, surely it can't be as simple as that,"

She thought for a moment, then smirked devilishly. "All right. You got me," she acquiesced. "There's one thing that will set almost any child off, and I can see why you, of all people, would be ignorant of it."

Intrigued, he pressed for more. "Which is...?"

"How you talk to them."

It was Kratos' turn to frown. That didn't make sense with his logical thinking—a fact which he verbalized to her, saying, "I'm talking to him how any other semi-intelligent being would want to be talked to. What's wrong with that?"

She shook her head in exasperation. "Kratos," she said, "most people, as well as many animals, understand only what you say based on the way you say it. You have to use 'baby talk' with Lloyd or else he'll continue to reflect whatever tone he hears in your voice."

Behind them, Noishe cocked his head to a side, following their conversation and eager to see if the mercenary would follow through in order to make his son smile and laugh. He wasn't the only one: Anna kept her eyes intently on her love as well, biting back the urge to laugh at the thought alone.

Silence.

Kratos sighed, closing his eyes and turning around to face Lloyd and bent down to the scowling boy's level. He opened his eyes and smiled as wide as he could.

"_Hey there, Little Lloyd_!"

Lloyd's chocolate eyes expanded to their maximum size as his scowl faded to a dumbfounded gape. Shortly thereafter, he screamed in delight and held his arms out to his father, beaming and giggling hysterically.

Happy with the outcome, Kratos picked up his son and continued onward—trying his best to tune out the uproarious laughter coming from his wife beside him.

He was in high spirits and so was Lloyd; that was all that mattered.


	2. Snowflakes

**Like Father, Like Son**

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**Title**: Snowflakes

**Summary**: As Daddy teaches Little Lloyd about snowflakes, Little Lloyd teaches himself the value of life.

**Spoilers**: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE BEATEN THE GAME!

**A/N**: My winter holiday special fic for 2006, written in under an hour. Enjoy, and happy holidays! X3

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Lloyd gazed upward at the sky, cloudy and grey with peaceful clouds. Any other day, it would be pouring down with rain, but not today. Today was... special, he had deduced.

On a normal day, he would be walking beside Noishe, or holding one of his parent's hands, if not both. On a normal day, there would be green and browns spread out beneath him. On a normal day, he would not be given the chance to sit atop his father's shoulders and on a normal day, he would not be given the chance to feel like so tall that could graze the clouds with one swipe of his hand.

Today was very special indeed.

Wrapped tightly in a small red parka and equipped with matching red mittens, he held firmly onto his father's head for balance as he reached upwards to intercept a falling frozen drop of rain. Holding the ice captive, he brought his hand down to his line of vision, curiously inspecting his catch. For only a second did it look different than anything he had ever seen in his three years before melting into a puddle of water upon his tiny mitten.

Little Lloyd frowned, leaning forward to catch another one. More quickly this time, he looked at it closely—alas, it met the same fate.

"...Daddy?"

"Yes, Lloyd?"

The boy leaned sideways so he could get a profile view of his father's face. "Why does the rain hide?"

Kratos, confused by the wording of his son's question, asked, "What do you mean?"

"Uum..." was Lloyd's response. He looked away and sloppily caught another snowflake in his hands, hurriedly pointing to the water droplet that had formed in its place. "There! It wasn't water before!"

Skimming through his recollections, Kratos recalled that Lloyd had never encountered any snow—well, not at anytime in which the boy could remember it, anyway, as they had stayed mostly near the midline of both the planets; neither of the planets experienced seasons to a degree to make any snow fall. Now, however, they decided to take a quick detour to Flanoir to stock up on supplies before heading back to Sylvarant. And Flanoir, being Flanoir, had snow covering the ground year-round.

Thinking for a moment, he asked, knowing full well the answer, "Do you think it's cold here?"

"Yeah!"

"Well, here in Flanoir, things are different." He started, taking—a now rather unhappy—Lloyd down from his shoulders and setting him down on a bench where Kratos joined him. "Everywhere else, when it gets cloudy, it rains, but here it _snows_ instead."

His son forgot his discontentment from being taken down from his perch as he looked up at the clouds in wonder. "Snow?" he said, "I don't get it."

"Snow is..." Kratos paused, searching for the right words. "...Snow is like tiny pieces of ice, very, very tiny pieces." He scooped up a small handful of the substance and held it for a moment, saying, "This is snow."

Lloyd grabbed a handful of snow as well, observing it closely. "But Daddy," he said, "if this is snow, and the stuff coming from the sky is snow, too, then how come the stuff coming from the sky is different from the stuff on the ground?"

Looking at it from the general standpoint, he inquired. "How are they different?"

Noting all the snowflakes stuck in his father's hair, he pointed to various ones, explaining, "Well, this one looks like a circle with holes in it—and this one looks like a circle with a hole in the middle and poke-ys sticking out of it—this one looks like a star—and this one looks like a square with holes in it—and here—"

"Is that so?"

"Yeah!" Lloyd giggled, then gasped as he nearly lunged for a clump of hair on the back of Kratos' head. "Daddy! This one's so pretty! Can I show it to Mommy? She would like it!"

Before he could even respond, Little Lloyd cupped the precious snowflake inside his hands and hopped off the bench in search of his mother. Kratos, though a bit surprised, leisurely sauntered behind him as he weaved around people and stands like a little red-clad mouse.

When he found his mother at a small vegetable market, he jumped in front of her and held his hands up over his head for her to see. "Mommy! Mommy!" he squeaked with glee. "Look! I caught a really pretty snowflake!"

Anna smiled sadly as he opened his hands to reveal nothing but soggy mittens. "I think the snowflake melted, sweetie."

Flabbergasted, the boy looked frantically at his hands, then at the back of them, and then hastily removed them to look inside for the missing jewel. "But... but—!" his small chocolate eyes welled up with tears; he cried softly, "It's gone! It's gone!"

After placing the appropriate amount of money on the counter, she knelt down to Lloyd's level and placed a tender hand on his shoulder, saying, "But Lloyd, look!" she said, pointing to the sky. "There are a lot more snowflakes coming down from the heaven's at any minute!"

Little Lloyd shook his head. "No! But none of them are like the one I found! They're all different and there will never be another like it ever again!"

As Lloyd continued to cry, Noishe wandered over to Kratos' side just in time to hear the seraph murmur to himself, "Even a boy his age realizes the worth of a life." He sighed quietly. "If only Mithos could see the same thing he does..."


	3. Pretend New Year's Special

**Like Father, Like Son**

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**Title**: Pretend (NY Special)

**Summary**: (Pre-Tower) Lloyd wants to drink champagne, but he's underage. However, Lloyd knows that there's a loophole in the law... so he has Kratos pretend to be his father.

**Spoilers**: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE BEATEN THE GAME!

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The Journey of Regeneration was not one of much convenience. Almost all of the travelers knew that, but that didn't stop a select few from complaining...

"It's New Years! You can't seriously expect us to do nothing!"

"Yeah! Let's do something!"

Exasperated with the boys' persistent requests, she sighed, "Well, what is there _to do_?"

"Let's go back to Palmacosta!" Lloyd suggested eagerly, "There'll be partying there for sure!"

"Palmacosta?" Raine exclaimed, "We passed that _hours_ ago! We'll never make it in time even if we—"

Not long after the sound reached their ears did Genis and Lloyd take off atop Noishe's back towards the city. Colette jumped to attention and chased after them, pleading, "Wait for me!"

"Kids..." Kratos and Raine sighed in unison as they half-heartedly pursued the quartet.

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Lloyd hopped eagerly off Noishe as the city came into sight; Genis and Colette followed suit. "Haha! It only took a half an hour on Noishe!" Lloyd laughed, racing off toward the lights and music. "C'mon, guys!"

Panting, but a good friend nevertheless, Noishe turned from the city and ran back to escort the mercenary and Professor.

Once the two reached the city atop the protozoan, they started out in their worried search for the 'youngsters' amidst the humongous half-drunken mob that had gathered in the city almost out of nowhere. Stands selling food and drinks were set up everywhere as music from live bands played and people danced wildly.

A loud ruckus coming from a particular drink stand caught Kratos' attention, so he shoved his way through the crowd to see Lloyd arguing heatedly with the bartender.

"I'm not under-age!" Lloyd protested.

"Quit lying through your teeth, boy!" The bartender shouted over the roaring crowd and music, slapping his hands down on the counter. "Unless I can see an identification card, or your parent says it's alright, you won't be getting' anything, y'hear?"

Lloyd frantically looked around, obviously on a high from the mob mentality. When he spotted Kratos, he yelled out, "Dad!" and rushed over, pulling the seraph over. "Dad, this guy won't serve me anything! Tell him it's alright to give me a shot of champagne to celebrate the New Year!"

Kratos swore his heart had stopped cold. Did Lloyd know? How could the boy have figured it out? He hadn't dropped any clues; none. "Yes, that's... fine," he stammered, still in too much shock to realize what he was agreeing to.

The bartender shook his head in disgust, begrudgingly handing a glass of the sparkling wine to Lloyd, receiving the payment bitterly. Lloyd grinned and took a sip, then a big gulp.

"Thanks, Dad! Happy New Year!" Lloyd said, grinning ear to ear, before downing the rest of his drink easily. "Ooh, martinis! Come on!"

Still a bit in shock, Kratos said hesitantly, "L-Lloyd... what—"

"Relax," Lloyd insisted, already a bit tipsy. "It was just pretend!"

The seraph's heart began beating again. Slowly, the icy rivers beneath his skin began to thaw. "Yes..." he murmured as he let Lloyd drag him to the next stand. "Pretend... it was all just make-believe."

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**A/N**: You all have my best wishes... well, MOST of you, anyway:P Hah, just kidding. Here's to the best in 2007!

_Sincerely,_

_Ark Navy_


	4. Connotations

**Like Father, Like Son**

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**Title**: Connotations

**Summary**: Everyone has one word that can just drive them up the wall. Unfortunately for Kratos, his son is well aware of that single word.

**A/N**: A special thanks to ShadowofUndine for helping me all throughout this fic:3

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As they walked down their path, the small band of five remained somewhat silent. Naturally, it was Lloyd who broke that silence as he posed on Genis, "You know what word I find so funny for no real reason?"

"What?" came Genis.

Kratos noticeably twitched. Lloyd said it.

Genis blinked, "Really? I don't see what's so funny about—" There it is again…! That _word_; that nasty, horrible—

Lloyd then proceeded to exclaim said word, saying, "C'mon! Isn't that funny? I mean, it's—!"

Kratos clenched his teeth together, near choking the hilt of his sword in his attempts at self-restraint. He walked ahead a bit, trying to tune them out, but it was no use. Lloyd just seemed to love exclaiming that particular word, as if saying it louder would make it all the funnier. The boy then found his sentences drowned in his fit of laughter.

Genis gave his friend the queer eye. "Honestly, Lloyd, I don't see what's so funny about—"

Kratos inhaled deeply. If they said that _word one more time_…

Colette, not one to be left out of the fun, proceeded to cry out, "_Ooh_!—" saying the word and laughing as if she'd reached some sort of epiphany—though really, she was just laughing because Lloyd was laughing, but she wouldn't admit to it.

Kratos then turned around swiftly, burning rage in his eyes, but he spoke calmly enough. Although, to the rest of them, that just made him all the scarier. "Lloyd, may I ask you why you find that _word_ so amusing?"

Immediately, he ceased his laughter and answered, in a small voice, "I don't know… every time I hear it, I remember something I can't place, but it was funny."

_Figures_, the mercenary sighed in his head; the one thing he does remember from his early childhood had to be the one word Anna had found that absolutely drove the Seraph _insane_. Why? He did not know. How? He didn't care enough to find out.

"Well, I'd appreciate if you'd abstain from saying that word. It's very annoying."

"…Why?"

"Because you need to respect the wishes of those around you." Kratos said in a harsh tone as he turned back to the road ahead.

Lloyd crossed his arms, but remained silent. After a while he muttered in a pouting manner, "All I said was—"

Raine-slap. Dirt.

"Thank you, Professor Sage."

"Anytime,"


	5. Anger

**Like Father, Like Son**

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**Title**: Anger

**Spoilers?:** DO NOT READ THIS UNLESS YOU WANT TO BE UBER SPOILT.

**Summary**: Everyone has different ways of handling intense anger; however, no matter how spiteful one may seem within their rage, hatred and anger are not always synonymous.

**A/N:** Thanks to Shadowof Undine for semi-beta-ing this piece! ...Even though I still refuse to spell "Flamberg" correctly, I hope the POV of various spots isn't too confusing.

Oh, and I've announced the post-date of _The Brothers Wilder_ in my bio, please check it out!

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"So, you've come."

Leaning indifferently next to Origin's Structure, Kratos stood to face the group, his auburn eyes as cold as ice. Across him, those same eyes shared with his son shone resiliently with determination and were warm with youth.

"Is there no other way?"

The former mercenary closed his eyes, shaking his head reproachfully. "Are you still thinking like that?" He mirthlessly watched his son, his words filled with a heartless candor. "You'll die if you fight against me with any doubt left in your heart."

Lloyd kept his silence as he took a hard look into his father's eyes, searching for anything behind the cold steel he fronted. He sought for anything—sparks, flashes of emotion that even hinted that the man even had a heart or to prove that he at least understood the gravity of the situation on his son. He also sought to disprove his worst fear: he didn't want to face him—who would?—he didn't want Kratos' blood upon his blades, but nor did he want to die himself.

Once, he remembered, the man who had been his father did have a heart—a great one. During his many restless nights after the events at Altessa's, once reticent memories would resurface in the forms of dreams; some were blissful glimpses into the past, while others reared as terrifying nightmares. All in all, good or bad, 'daddy' was always there for him. He was there to shield him from the monsters, and he was there to let the little boy ride upon his shoulders and scrape at the clouds.

But Lloyd knew now. Looking past the steel veneer, he saw nothing. The man in his memories had died long ago with the life had loved and the family that had stuck by his side through it all.

The boy's eyes filled with scorn. He lowered, then closed them. "So... that's your way."

For an instant, something flashed within the seraph, but he quickly repressed it. This must be done, there's not another way; he needed to make sure Lloyd knew that. "If you seek a pact with Origin, then you must defeat me."

Lloyd nodded, allowing traces of reluctance to show. He then stepped forward boldly, renewed with a radiant resolve. "Everyone, I'll handle this."

Kratos blinked, slightly surprised. "You're going to fight alone?"

"Yeah," He said. He drew his blades, pointing one directly at his sire without expression. "It would be stupid to risk their lives when I can indubitably take you on my own."

In any other situation, Kratos would have found it difficult not to at least smirk at the boy's brashness, but at this, he found himself infected with a foreign shard of emotion. He was intuitively concerned. It wasn't often he felt his life threatened in any way, it was… unnerving.

Nevertheless grave, he pulled the Flamberg from its sheath, running his eyes over its smooth, yet fiery surface. "This is it." He stated finally. "I'm not holding anything back."

"I know." Lloyd replied, moving his swords to a more apt position. "I won't either."

Both sets of auburn eyes locked on the other one last time before alighting with action as they transfixed on the battle ahead. Lloyd began with his usual frontal charge at his opponent; Kratos foresaw this and called, "_Double Demon Fang_!" then swiftly retreated backwards and readied a spell.

Without even breaking stride, Lloyd retaliated with his own, "_Double Demon Fang_!" and continued on his path, hardly flinching as the powerful shockwaves crashed mere inches in front of him. But as they dispersed harmlessly, he managed a glimpse ahead and hurriedly screeched to a halt in response, holding his blades before him in a defensive stance.

Kratos seemed to abandon his spell for the moment as he used the curtain of the shockwaves to try and visor his swift approach. However, when he, too, caught a sight beyond the visual clamor, he sharply veered to the right, where he knew the boy's defenses would be the weakest.

Partly in thanks to his son's sloppy footwork, he was able to unleash a few barely salvaged blows, carrying on the ambush with a stunning, "_Super Lightning Blade!"_

But unlike most had foreseen, as Lloyd staggered backwards, trying to regain his bearings, Kratos paced backward as well—completely balanced, unlike the former. He stopped a few strides short and picked up right where he left off.

Lloyd had just managed to keep his world from spinning when he realized just what was going on. "Spell save…" he cursed under his breath. "…Dammit!"

Earthen mana whipped all around the two like raging winds. "_Grave_!"

Lloyd noted the ground as it began to tremor beneath him while ahead of him his sire stood openly, the spell pouring out from him. He had to strike while the spell still had a hold of his adversary. Luckily, Lloyd was very familiar with the order of this particular magic as he took a daring leap forward, hoping he had his timing one cue. Just as he'd thought, a deadly spire shot forth from the ground just below him, and as gravity took its course on him, he landed slickly on the tip and propelled himself forward and out of harm's way just as the following stone spires erupted from the earth.

Nearing Kratos, he shouted, "_Fierce Demon Fang_!"

But at the last possible second, Kratos freed himself of the spell's paralyzing effects and brought his sword parallel to his shoulders.

Now with his first attempt foiled, Lloyd brought his left handed sword behind him for a quick horizontal slash. "I can't believe you." He muttered just before his blade stuck flesh.

Before Lloyd could land and carry on with his swipes, Kratos hastily retreated backwards, sporting a long, thin gash that spanned his chest. He paid it no heed, replying in a low voice. "What's there not to believe? This is how it must be." He then rushed towards him, managing one clean hit before the metals began their piercing howls. A few drawn strokes passed before they reached a true stalemate, as Kratos, two hands gripping the hilt of his blade, strived unendingly to force the Flamberg through Lloyd's two swords, crossed in front of him in an X as they unknowingly trapped the intrusive sword.

Lloyd grinned cruelly behind his shield of swords, an unusual characteristic for him, to say the least. "It can't be the only way. What if I couldn't beat you? To kill your own blood a second time…"

The Seraph's blood ran cold at the thought, but he masked that by hardening his eyes. "This isn't about my feelings." He spat.

The smirk vanished. Lloyd suddenly swiped his left hand sword beneath his right, then brought it back around all in one fluid motion, forcing Kratos' sword from his grip. The two metals cried out as the Flamberg soared through the air, landing blade in the ground far from the two. In the blink of an eye, Lloyd dropped the sword from his left hand, curled it into a fist and knocked his sire to the ground with a hard punch, "Damn right it's not!"

Lloyd stood over him, eyes ablaze with fury. "Have you ever stopped to consider what would happen _after_ this? _Have you_?!"

"Lloyd, calm down." Kratos urged, voice as calm as always. "I can understand your hatred—"

"_Shut up_!" he roared, thrusting his sword downward until—

Colette shrieked in horror; Raine stifled a gasp. He had done it. Zelos grimaced and looked away miserably; Sheena shook her head in disbelief. Lloyd had done it—he struck down his own father.

He turned from him, eyes firmly sealed shut and hands still coiled into tight fists at his side. "Shut. Up." He growled. "I'm angry at you for what you've done. I hate the choices you've made and I hate how you've had to act." Lloyd turned back to face Kratos. "…But I don't hate you."

Lloyd's sword stood straight upwards from the ground, mere inches from Kratos' neck. Still a bit shaky from the near miss, Kratos raised himself to a sitting position, trying not to show the unconscious panic he had faced. For a moment, he was silent, eyes still as hard as stone.

"…You didn't miss, did you?"

Lloyd shook his head.

Kratos rose to his feet, eyes closed, scowling. "I thought I'd finally earned the right to die," he spat bitterly. "But you're as soft-hearted as ever…"

He watched the man in a cold silence as he moved to properly face Origin's monument. "…Are you releasing Origin's…?"

"That is what you desire…" Kratos had turned his head so slightly to catch a last glimpse at his son. "…Is it not?"

"…It… is what we need…" Lloyd answered honestly, but without the least bit of gusto. "But…"

Kratos looked back to the headstone. He could feel Lloyd's spiteful gaze on his back, his auburn eyes no doubt filled with malice and disdain as he knew what was to come.

But as the Seraph stood before death's door, all the mana within him siphoning into the air around them, he took solace in the fact that he at least wouldn't be carrying the hatred of his own blood to his grave.


	6. Play Time

**Like Father, Like Son**

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**Title:** Play Time

**Summary:** When Anna decides to run a quick errand, she leaves Kratos to watch over their young son, who quickly finds ways to amuse himself at his father's expense.

**A/N:** The idea for this came from a real (kyuut!) scenrio I saw at the airport. A huge thanks goes out to StrawberryEggs for beta-ing this for me! I hope you all enjoy.

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She said she just had to run out and buy a few 'girl things', as she phrased it, and had promised she wouldn't be long. _Long_ _by whose standards?_ he'd nearly wondered aloud, but caught himself at the last moment. Oh well, at least she hadn't asked _him_ to pick them up for her—that would've been a disaster in the making for sure.

Before heading out, she added, rather redundantly, "While I'm gone, watch over the little trouble-maker for me, please?"

Really, Kratos knew he shouldn't complain at all, even though he did have fairly pressing matters he had to straighten out with Cruxis, for the most part, the eight-month-old Lloyd was content to amuse himself with the various toys laid out for him, including a ball, a stuffed lion, and his favorite, Noishe.

Kratos had picked up and relocated the boy and his possessions to an area adjacent to his work space in the small home they rented out in Izoold so he could continue his work and watch his son at the same time. He proceeded to get to work, but before long his son reminded him he had forgotten to relocate one of his toys. _Loudly_. But that conundrum was fixed with a single whistle; Noishe trotting into the room and plopping down between his two companions satisfied the little one.

And for the next ten minutes, Kratos was able to work diligently with a slight smile curling on his lips every now and then as he listened to his son squeal with delight. As soon as those ten minutes passed, however, young Lloyd noticed a presence was absent from the household, which gave wings to adventurous thoughts within his developing mind. Silent in his inquisitiveness, he crawled off exuberantly, Noishe slowly trailing behind him.

So engrossed in his paper regarding the Ritual of the Chosen that was scheduled to begin in a mere sixteen years, he paid the silence no special attention until that precious sanctity was broken in more ways than one.

He nearly jumped out of his chair as he heard a loud crashing sound, followed by his son screaming with terror. He paled faintly when he noticed the space next to him had become barren and Lloyd continued to wail. Following the sound, he dashed from room to room until he found the boy sitting next to a fallen chair in the kitchen. He hurriedly picked up the crying child, holding him against him comfortingly, thanking every entity that the boy was unharmed aside from being a bit shaken.

"Shh, it's alright, Lloyd…" Kratos repeated as the terrified child continued to bawl. He released a rigid sigh. "Lloyd, calm down, it was just a chair…" he shook his head, muttering, "For Martel's sake, you laugh in the face of a monster like Noishe that could devour you whole…"

Noishe whined, irked at the uncalled for jab.

A few moments later, Kratos smiled in relief as Lloyd's cries died down to snivels and hiccupping. "There… There we go…" he murmured calmingly.

The protozoan whined once more, rising up onto his hind legs, placing his massive paws on Kratos' shoulders and licked Lloyd behind his tiny ears, making the boy giggle in delight.

"There's a smile." Kratos said with a small smile himself. He carried Lloyd back into the other room with Noishe faithfully at his heels. He set him down in his little area again and prepared to return to work. However, as he would soon find out, Lloyd discovered that he liked the acute attention of his father. As soon as he finished gathering the papers that had scattered during his moment of dread, Lloyd let loose an especially shrill squeal. Kratos couldn't help but cringe as his angelic hearing caught every ear splitting pitch of the cry. Noishe yowled in response as well, attempting to cover his overly large ears with his paws.

Try as he might to ignore the boy's screams for attention, his hearing begged him to give in after only the second try. "What is it, Lloyd?"

He giggled victoriously, holding his chubby little arms out towards his father, who shook his head, turning back to his work. "Not now, Lloyd. Later."

Another shrill scream later, Kratos sat on the floor across from his son. He knew there was no way he'd make it out of this without sacrificing his hearing, so he decided to make the best of it.

"Lloyd, where's your head?" he'd ask the boy, who'd smile back blankly. Kratos lightly placed his hand atop the boy's head, saying, "There's your head."

He repeated this cycle until he could ask his son almost anything from the tops of his spiky brown hair to his tiny toes. …Except, Lloyd could not seem to grasp the concept of a nose. Regardless, Kratos was satisfied with their progress.

"Lloyd, where are your ears?"

He looked around with a small, silly smile before clumsily grasping his ears with a happy giggle.

"Lloyd, where's your head?"

He slapped his tiny hands on the sides of his head with an excited laugh.

"Lloyd, where's your nose?"

His smile faded and he slipped one hand into his mouth, presumably in deep thought. After a while, his father repeated, "Where's your _nose_?"

Lloyd begun to laugh dumbly and Kratos sighed. "Where is your—"he tapped Lloyd's nose with two fingers. "—_nose_?"

The young boy shrieked in delight before clapping his hands in front of his face. He then frowned, pulling them away with a puzzled look.

"Now then… where's your _nose_, Lloyd?"

Lloyd stuck out his lower lip, a frown still present upon his features. Finally, he grinned, crawling over into his father's lap. Laughing, he slapped his tiny hand over Kratos' nose, squashing it flat against his face.

"…Roid." He began sternly; unaware of the reaction he'd draw from his young son. "Nnat's schnot chour—"

Lloyd exploded in a fit of laughter, nearly falling over backwards, if not for his father catching him. As soon as he calmed down, he sat back up, placing his hand upon Kratos' nose again.

His father looked him firmly in the eye. "…Roid,"

And again the boy erupted in a fit of giggles.

Kratos sighed, without a thought towards when his wife might return.


	7. Strengths and Weaknesses

**Like Father, Like Son**

--

**Title**: Strength and Weakness

**Summary**: It was a bit late, but… now was the right time, if there ever was one, to reconsider.

**Spoilers?:** Please have completed the game before reading.

**Rating**: K+

**A/N**: Not proof-read/beta'd. This is a two hour write and it's pretty raw.

--

It had all come in a flash. It had all come so quickly, he had never really given time to consider if this was what he wanted or not. He had just been running with whatever life threw at him, rolling with the punches.

It was a bit late, but… now was the right time, if there ever was one, to reconsider.

--

In four-thousand years, Kratos Aurion had become a master swordsman and skilled user of mana. He was swift but thorough, cunning but a fighter. There were few things that could penetrate his stoic veneer, and even fewer his steeled guard. Over four thousand years the man had worked ruthlessly to eliminate that which had made him mortal—that which had made him weak. And he was doing a fine job of it, too.

But the past two years were not like him. He had run off with a human woman, fallen in love and somehow produced a child with the prisoner. It was night and Kratos sat in the dimly lit room of the inn with the small child, not more than a few months old, hiccupping in his lap. He positioned the babe in his arms and gently rocked it back and forth until the tears faded from its cheeks.

Something inside of him could not bear to look away from the child, the epitome of his love for the woman prisoner. It represented everything that could change—that could be changed—in the world as the path that slithered out before him disappeared under the horizon of uncertainty. Long ago, that hadn't existed. Perhaps he was reaching the end of the winding trail at last.

And yet it was that same something inside of him that could not stand to look at the child, the epitome of his betrayal. Countless generations had passed and still his allegiance had never wavered. No event he encountered, no person he had met had ever changed him or anything else—why should this? The path spawned from the existence of this tiny human held a sliver of light far off beyond the horizon, but jagged rocks and pratfalls littered its unpaved roads. What's more, with every step forward, the trail behind him eroded. Before long, he would be trapped with nowhere to go but towards the ever flickering light.

But there was still time. If he tried, he could make the leap back to the worn trail.

Therein lay the weakness that thwarted him for centuries: to those he cared about, he had to play the hero. A silent hero, but a hero all the same. He could not find it within himself to abandon those in want, even if for the better. He was seldom selfish about anything, except for this.

The night silently wore on; for once, he felt he had the time to logically think his actions through. There were disadvantages, and there were advantages. Staying would put all of them at risk, they could never be safe. He would have to be even more cautious with his dealings with Cruxis, lest more blood stain his already crimson hands. One false move, and everything he had worked so hard for would be crushed in an instant, and he would have no place to turn.

Advantages in staying were… sentimental and intangible. Hopeful, to say the least.

He stood up, carefully placing the child back in its crib. Decision in mind, he strode soundlessly to a desk and opened the top drawer, withdrawing a pen, an inkwell, and a piece of stationary. Eyes unreadable he scribed a letter to the woman sleeping soundly in the bed. He did not address it, he did not sign it. It simply read, _This cannot be the way. I cannot continue to place you in such peril._

Upon finishing the letter, he withdrew from his pocket a substantial sum of money and placed it on the table. They would need it more than he. He put away the instruments, the paper, and closed the drawer.

Kratos reached for the door when he heard the child suddenly cry out terribly. Its wails pierced the night like terrified screams and his delicate hearing could pick up the frantic ruffling of the soft blankets within the crib. The child was scared.

His fingertips fell from the cold knob and he paced back to the small bed. He took the babe in his arms and wordlessly held it, calmly placing his fingers atop its head and sliding them down its back. It was a soothing mechanism.

Slowly the child's cries died down and it began to drift back to its dreamy slumber.

The prisoner's quiet voice almost startled him in the night. "You're his hero," she slurred. "Daddy's saving him from the big scary nightmonsters…" she yawned. "All in a night's work, I guess…"

Kratos did not respond. He did not need to; Anna had already fallen asleep once more. He could not help but stand there incredulously. Fate was tempting him, dangling it all in front of him. He was determined not to be swayed—he would overcome his weakness.

He sadly brushed his lips on the boy's head before setting him into his crib, whispering a prayer of good dreams. He walked to the desk where his note still lay and picked up the yellow parchment. He hesitated.

Where his fingers held the letter, the paper began to burn. He watched each word burn to ashes without a single expression crossing his eyes.

Another day, in another way, he would overcome his weakness.

--

Lloyd stared emptily into the ashes of the campfire that once burned brightly before him. Everyone else had already drifted to sleep, leaving him with the night watch for the first couple hours. It worked out well—he couldn't sleep, anyway.

He had started to second guess his decision to join Colette on her Journey of Regeneration, after all, he was just a simple guy with simple needs.

Of course, it's not like he had many alternatives. But something about this entire plight just didn't sit right with him. There had to be be something—some key fact or twist in the plot—that he was missing, and he knew he wasn't going to like it.

He looked at the dozing forms around him. Colette slept soundly, peacefully across from him. There was no doubt she would be in for a rough trip. Genis, to the left, was no doubt smart and had a strong ability to cast, but he wasn't fit for physical combat. To the left one more, Raine quietly slumbered. She, too, was intelligent and had a handy healing touch, but like her brother could not handle physical combat very well.

Then, to Lloyd's right, Kratos laid back with his eyes closed—asleep or not, he still looked apt to strike at a moment's notice. Lloyd had no doubt that the red-haired mercenary could easy handle the job of keeping everyone safe. This fact slightly discouraged the teen. It proved more that if he ducked out of this, it wouldn't be entirely detrimental to the journey.

Above it all, he was rarely selfish. But on this occasion, even if his reckless sword-swinging antics put everyone more at risk than it did good, he would stay with them.

The embers slowly died to ash, and Lloyd could feel the mercenary's stare on him. "You look tired," Kratos scoffed. "Get some rest. I'll take over."

"I'm not tired!" Lloyd shot back in a hiss.

"Don't be a hero. Get some sleep."

Lloyd grumbled something unintelligible, but lay down nevertheless. That settled it, he decided. There was no way he was leaving now.

He would improve and get stronger. He would revel in one of his greatest strengths: the desire to protect those he cared about.

The desire to play the hero.


	8. Nightmare

**Like Father, Like Son**

-----

_Title_: Nightmare

_Summary_: He could feel his heart battering against his chest, pounding desperately against his ribcage like a prisoner inside his own body. He felt himself doing the same; likewise a prisoner held in the grasp of a nightmare.

_A/N_: Just as a test to see if people actually do read author's notes. If you are reading this now and if you review, please tell me your favorite color. Participation will be rewarded.

-----

He could feel his heart battering against his chest, pounding desperately against his ribcage like a prisoner inside his own body. He felt himself doing the same; likewise a prisoner held in the grasp of a nightmare.

Kratos didn't know where he was. His muscles ached, his body was bruised, and he couldn't breathe. The world around him trembled, quivering. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, but strength eluded him. Senses sharpened, he could hear frenzied footsteps and leaves crunching and twigs breaking underfoot. The air was alive with chaos and turmoil, and he was running through the heart of it.

_Daddy…_

In his mind he could see his destination, but no matter how many steps he pounded onto the soft ground, it never seemed to draw nearer. A sense of dread and overwhelming urgency washed over him.

He could see his son, eyes pinched shut in fear, clinging to Anna with silent tears. She held him close to her, muffling his cries with her shoulder as she crouched behind an overhang of earth and tree roots. She stroked his hair calmingly, whispering, "Shh, shh, Lloyd, sweetie, be quiet. It's going to be all right. We're going to find Daddy, and get out of here. We're going to be all right, Lloyd, but you need to be quiet. Shh, shh…"

She took a quick glance around the overhang before ducking back again to soothe the terrified toddler. She began to shiver between her words, breaths becoming measured and arduous. Noishe stood beside her, issuing a noise he had never heard from the protozoan. It was both frightened and assertive—a whine fused with a snarl.

_Daddy…!_

"Hush!" she hissed, her voice strained as she continued to try and pacify her son.

Kratos had never seen Noishe act aggressively towards anyone without warrant. Noishe went completely terse. Hackles raised and pristine canines barred, his snarling intensified to that of a wild beast and his eyes locked on the crying boy she held in her arms.

Anna closed her eyes, letting a small, agonized moan escape her. Even in the chilling night air, beads of sweat formed along her hairline. "Lloyd… shh…" She knelt to the ground, a sudden tremor tearing along her spine. Noishe barked wildly as her exsphere blazed into her skin, pulsating rapidly.

All he could feel were his feet pounding against the ground, every step taking him no farther than the last.

Lloyd continued to cry. Noishe howled and snarled. Anna's sobbing became agonized. Lloyd's screams grew louder and more hysterical. Noishe foamed, eyes flashing madly. Anna, unleashing one last unearthly shriek—

_Daddy!!_

"Daddy?"

With a gasp, Kratos' eyes flew open. His young son's brown eyes hovered over him, contorted with apprehension. "Daddy, what's wrong?"

"Lloyd…" He brought one hand, which had been resting on his son's back as the toddler had slept on his torso, to his head.

"Goin' _thumpa-thumpa-thumpa-thumpa_!" Lloyd said, beating his small hand on Kratos' chest. "Really fast!"

"Was it." He murmured. He could still feel it racing. "Thank you, Lloyd. You're a good boy."

He giggled, beaming. Eager to hear more, he said, "Why?"

"For saving me," answered Kratos, laying his hand again on the toddler's back, encouraging him to lie back down. "From a nightmare."

"A nightmare?!" Lloyd squeaked. "Was it scary?"

"Yes. Very scary."

Caught between towns as nightfall enveloped the land in darkness, the three had opted to spend a night under the stars. It hadn't been long before, lying between his mother and father, Lloyd had crawled onto his father's torso—one of his favorite places to doze. Almost worrisomely small for his age, he could still lay head-to-toe on either of his parents without disturbing them. Kratos knew he would have to break his son of the habit soon, but for the moment, was content to allow him the refuge.

As Lloyd drifted back to sleep, Kratos lay awake. It had been years since he had had a nightmare, and even more since it had affected him so. It was a rare touch of normalcy that seemed almost unfamiliar to him. In fact, before his life with Anna, he could not remember the last time he'd experienced a nightmare of enough horror to affect him outside of his own mind.

Much of the night remained. With one arm wrapped around his wife, and one hand placed on the small boy whose heart thumped slowly against his chest, he knew that the nightmares could no longer reach him.


	9. Bedtime Story: Bear the Lion

**Like Father, Like Son**

-----

_Title_: Bedtime Story

_Summary_: Bedtime story chronicles: Bear the Lion.

_Rating_: K

_A/N_: Idea suggested by Ranchdressing through chapter eight's poll prize. Inspired by the song, "We Are One" from the Lion King: Return to Pride Rock, sung by, ironically, Cam Clarke, the same VA for Kratos. I highly suggest it for anyone in the oyako mood, especially imagining Charity Sanoy as a young Lloyd singing back to his father. It's wonderful. I wish I could make a flash for it, but I don't know how to work flash… _Anyway_. Bedtime Story; short and sweet. :)

-----

"Settle down, Lloyd. You won't get your story unless you settle down."

"_Story_? You gonna tell me a bedtime story, Daddy?"

"If you lie down in your bed and be quiet, then yes, I'll tell you a story."

The conditional of his father's offer entirely ignored, Lloyd let out a shrill, happy scream before racing down the hall of their rented Izoold home. Kratos cringed as his son landed a flying jump kick straight into the door to his bedroom. Damage to the house could seriously cost them, and at this point, money was one of the things they could barely hold onto. Moreover, Lloyd was horribly small for his age, both in height and weight. A move like that could deal more damage to the boy than the door.

With a boisterous triumphant cackle, Lloyd dashed off into his room, where other disconcerting thuds and slams could be heard. Kratos sighed, following him in. "Lloyd, I've told you time and time again not to do that." His voice hardened, flat lining into a dangerous monotone. "Lloyd, I said stop. _Now_."

He practically froze, looking at his father timidly with wide, petrified eyes. His voice couldn't have been louder than a whisper as he said, "…I'sorry, Daddy..."

Kratos gritted his teeth together. He had made the mistake of using the same tone of voice with Lloyd as he would use in more difficult situations—horrifying situations of which Lloyd had unwillingly been a part. He regretted his choice of tone immediately and was quick to change it to a warmer, softer pitch. "It's alright. Come here, Lloyd."

Hesitant at first, the boy ran to his father's side in an instant, the tips of his brown hair barely surpassing his father's knee. Kratos picked him up, carrying him to his toddler sized bed where he sat down with him as Lloyd clung tightly around his neck. He was shaking quietly, still haunted by the memories surfaced by the sound of his father's voice.

For a moment, the two sat in silence. Lloyd finding refuge in his father's arms from the unforgettable scenes replaying in his three-year-old memory. Kratos, weary from a long day, unable to forgive himself for the tone he had used with his son, praying the terrible memories would fade away as the years went on.

Gently, he pulled Lloyd away from him, still holding him at the boy's arm length. "Lloyd, do you know where your lion is?"

"…Bear…" He repeated wistfully, crawling over to the other side of his bed to grab Bear by the tail. He dragged it back with him into his father's lap where he snuggled the stuffed lion against Kratos' chest.

"Lloyd, do you remember what Bear the Lion stands for?" Kratos asked, gently moving the boy's head to look up at him.

"Bear is brave," Lloyd murmured, tucking his head back into the soft plush lion, "and strong and courage…"

Kratos nodded. "Do you want me to tell you a story about Bear?"

Lloyd nodded.

He paused, piecing together a story in his mind. "…Once upon a time, there existed a small bear cub who roamed the world in search of—"

"But Bear's a lion, Daddy…" Lloyd interrupted shyly.

Kratos paused once more. "…That's right. Thank you, Lloyd." Why Lloyd had chosen to name his stuffed lion "Bear" after a stray dog Anna had nicknamed "Bearington" was beyond him. "...Once upon a time, there existed a small _lion_ cub named Bear who roamed the world in search of a family… A war, however, caused Bear to be seen as a wild monster, and he was chased out of every town in order to keep the townspeople safe.

" Grieving over his exile, Bear disappeared deep into a forest. He cried out to anyone who would listen, 'You must not fear me, for if I should grow up without love, I shall turn into the monster you so fear.' A brave boy heard his cries and courageously headed deep into the forest where he found the Bear the lion cub alone. And that marked the beginning of Bear's new life… with his new friend and family.

"Do you know what the boy's name was?" Kratos asked him softly.

Chocolate eyes peeking over the stuffed lion's fluffy mane, Lloyd shook his head.

"His name… was Lloyd," he answered, tousling the boy's hair. "And Bear's very happy to be here with you. He's very grateful that you were brave enough to come and save him from being sad and lonely."

Lloyd beamed, squeezing Bear tightly. He crawled off his father's lap and over to his spot on the bed, trying to cover himself with the blankets while keeping his hold on Bear. Kratos stood and helped him, tucking him under the quilts and tousling his hair a final time before he extinguished the candle illuminating the toddler's room.

"…Daddy?" he heard Lloyd mumble sleepily as he made his way to the door.

"Yes, Lloyd?"

"Can you tell me a story 'bout Noishy too?"

"Tomorrow. Good night, Lloyd."

"Good night, Daddy."

He dreamed wonderful dreams that night.


	10. Abandonment

_Like Father, Like Son_

-----

_Title_: Abandonment

_Summary_: Lloyd wanted to believe it. He wanted so desperately to believe with the facts before him that every word was the truth. But this fabrication was so thin that even as a child he could see right through it. Lloyd was not an orphan. He was... abandoned.

_Spoilers_: Don't read unless you have beaten the game.

_A/N_: No, I'm not making a fanfiction comeback. This has just been sitting in my mind for too long. And I needed to write _something_, even of this mediocre quality.

-----

_Orphan_.

Lloyd hated that word. It was for children whose parents both died, usually in some selfless or heroic effort to save their child.

Lloyd… was not an orphan.

He had been told growing up that both his parents had died in an accident—that somehow he alone was spared from this tragedy. No details were known, no explanations were given; all he knew was that his mother, Anna, and his father perished when he was three.

Lloyd wanted to believe that. He wanted so desperately to believe with the facts before him that every word was the truth—nothing more, nothing less. But this fabrication was so thin that even as a child he could see right through it.

Lloyd didn't have a clear memory at only three years, but he knew he had a mother and a father. He knew that his mother was kind but stubborn, and loved him very much. He knew that his father was stern but gentle, and cared for him.

Why was he never told how his parents died?—besides "by accident"… gracious, it's not like they'd planned on it. Why, if he had been with them, did he not get killed in the "accident" as well? Why, if both his parents died, did he only have a grave to honor his mother?

Lloyd knew his father was not dead.

Shards of memories that had all but faded from his mind told him his father could not have died in this "accident". And if he had, he would have wanted to be with Lloyd's mother in death. None of it made sense to him. He refused to be spoon-fed lies any longer, and when he was seven, he learned a word to describe his situation.

_Abandoned_.

Lloyd was abandoned—torn from his mother and left for dead by his father: That was his conclusion after years of frustrating confusion.

Despite how much hurt, how much anger, and how much ire it brought to the forefront of his mind whenever he thought about it, he never wanted to burden anyone else with his thoughts. No one in his position enjoyed it or enjoyed talking about it, and anyone not in his position probably didn't need to know the cruel feeling of abandonment only to have it floating around in their minds like a piranha amidst goldfish.

Little by little, he stopped thinking about it all together. He spent more time focusing on the present, and less time dwelling in the past. Anyone even slightly versed in psychology would call it 'bottling up his feelings', and those more knowledgeable still might call it 'repression'—both terms for an unhealthy way to deal with one's emotions. He would shake his head with a laugh, rebutting, "Nah, I just don't think about it too much. In time I'll just forget all about it. S'no big deal, really."

Not that anyone ever asked. Lloyd never had any major qualms with his adoptive father, so no questions were ever raised.

And, if anything, it had helped him grow into a kind hearted young man. It gave him compassion and a sense of empathy uncommon for someone his age. He felt a sort of kinship in those who had lost their way, and so strove to help them back onto the right path, just as Dirk had done for him. In that way, his friendship with Genis blossomed, and, sharing a common compassion for helping others, Colette drew to him like a magnet. Soon enough he was surrounded by people he cared for and who cared about him.

Whatever had happened in the past was in the past. Lloyd lived for the present and the future, where he would never be alone.

Of course, not long into the Journey of Regeneration, his past began to resurface, bit by bit. He did his best to push it away—he didn't want to deal with it, thought he had put it behind him.

When he slept, anger would flare up inside him and loneliness would freeze him to the core and he would suddenly awaken in the darkest of the night with his mind racing, heart pounding and hot tears nipping at his eyes. His body ached from the constant clenching and unclenching of his muscles as his dreams invoked within him painful sensations he thought he had long ago released. He often awoke in the dead silence of the night disoriented and hysterical as the visions before his eyes refused to fade into the darkness around him. His eyes burned, his chest cramped… he never slept well.

But those things weren't normal. And Lloyd wanted to be normal. He desperately wanted to be normal. So he did whatever any other normally fated person might do in his scenario.

He ignored it. Made the best of what little uninterrupted sleep he was allowed, gave his all whenever his body would allow—and even when it didn't. He smiled, he laughed; he was at peace by day.

To most, his charade went undetected, just as it had for most of his life, but it began to crack little by little as Colette furthered her transformation into an angel. The nightly pains were getting stronger and harder to contain, leaving his body and mind alike in a mangled state as the sun rose to start the cycle anew. He could feel the word jumping around on his tongue, begging to be muttered aloud.

_Abandoned_.

_Abandoned_.

-----

It was the night before they were to head to the Tower of Salvation, where Colette would undergo her final transformation into an angel and regenerate the world of Sylvarant. It was a night where tensions ran high, but tones were mellow and somber. It was a particularly dark night as the stars of the mountainous gathering shone only dimly behind a thick blanket of clouds; not even the light of the moon, Tethe'alla, could penetrate the foggy curtain.

It was his last chance.

Lloyd lay motionless in bed, directing his thoughts on the day ahead, keeping them from wandering. Breathing steadily, he kept his eyes wide open in the darkness, though it really made no difference either way. He sighed gently, rolling onto his side. There was nothing he could to; it was already beginning.

Kratos lay on the cot across from the troubled teen, eyes wide open and seeing through the shadows. He saw the boy lay motionless, eyes open yet unseeing, every thought that ran through his head seemingly projected through his dimmed brown eyes.

It was his last chance. He knew what tomorrow would bring. He hoped he didn't, but his hope against the will and whim of an obdurate demi-god stood feebly as a mouse before a lion. Besides, he was one who had given up on hope, just as it had given up on him, in his eyes.

"Lloyd," he murmured, stirring from his position to place his feet firmly on the ground. "Come outside."

Startled, the boy nearly fell flat on his face. But, as not to wake Genis, he rose and quietly, curiously followed Kratos until they stood outside the door to the inn. Lloyd spoke first, no longer restrained by the respectful expectation to be hushed. "You knew I was awake?"

"You're awake during much more of the night than you should be,"

Lloyd sighed, rolled his eyes. "If you took me out here to tell me that, then I don't really see the point…"

"That would be foolish, wouldn't it." He agreed dully. He took a half-step towards the eastern path, looking back at Lloyd. "Come with me; I need you to answer some questions."

He grumbled, "Questions? I don't like where this is going…"

Ignoring the younger boy's griping, Kratos led him up the winding path to the cliff. Keeping his eyes ahead, he asked, "Lloyd… why did you choose to accompany the Chosen on her Journey of Regeneration?"

"Colette's my best friend," Lloyd replied adamantly. "And Genis, and Raine, too." He looked down at the ground, "Besides, it's not like I could stay in Iselia…"

He nodded, "Fair enough… but what do you plan to do once the journey is over?"

Lloyd paused, humming in thought. "Colette 'n Raine'll probably want to return to Iselia, at least so Colette can see her parents and grandma again and Raine can… I dunno if she'll keep teaching or not. Anyway, I'll probably—" _travel the world, searching for my father along the way so I can ask him why._ "—probably… just… see the rest of Sylvarant. Regenerated and beautiful. Hopefully with Colette 'n Genis 'n Raine if they wanna come along, too."

Kratos hesitated. "Lloyd, surely you're aware by now…"

He blinked in response. "Aware of what?"

The mercenary paused, shook his head. "Nothing. Never mind."

They reached the peak of the cliff in silence. The night sky was clear and alit with twinkling stars, illuminating the horizon and everything before it in a dim, glittering glow. The Tower of Salvation stood out darkly in the horizon, dividing the land with its immense, dark shadow.

Kratos gazed broodingly at the colossal Tower. He almost seemed startled when Lloyd spoke.

"What about you?" Lloyd turned his head to look at him, eyes unblinking with interest, tone level and light.

"I'm a traveling mercenary. I go where I'm needed." Kratos provided simply, looking back at the Tower. "The sky is completely clear… even so, can you see the top of the Tower of Salvation?"

Craning his neck to try and follow the trail of tile as it climbed higher into the heavens, Lloyd said, "Nope." He looked back at Kratos incredulously. "…Why, can you?"

"Of course not." Kratos replied still as the structure of their interest. He paused, "The Chosen… Colette's going to have to ascend the Tower if she's going to regenerate the world."

Lloyd gaped. "Are you kidding?" he frowned, mouth hanging as he looked back over the horizon. "Even with her angel wings, that'd take forever!"

He nodded slightly, murmuring, "Forever… yes, that's about right."

Lloyd tilted his head, running his hand through his hair absently. "Oh man," he sighed. "If that's the case, our journey's never gonna end, is it? I'm sticking with Colette until the end—I wanna see her regenerate the world with my own eyes. I just hope they have an teleport pad… or an elevator, at least."

"I'm afraid you won't be able to make that leg of the Journey." Kratos replied evenly, "That is something Colette must brave on her own. …Just like how you must learn to brave being able to let her go, you realize."

"What, why?" he whirled to fully face him, fists clenched at his side and frowning. "I mean, yeah, I realize that and all, but what the hell are you talking about all of a sudden? You're talking about it like she'll never return!" his words became sharp with anger. "She's going to turn into an angel and she's going to Regenerate the World! And then she's going to be part of it! She's going to be able to enjoy the new and thriving world she will have helped save!"

"Lloyd—"

"No!" he shouted, "If you're asking me to give up on her, then I'm never giving up on her! Do you hear me? I'm _never_ going to give up on Colette, not Genis, not Raine, not _anyone_!" he huffed, turning away from Kratos. He took a few paces down the trail, staring restlessly at the night sky. Kratos watched the boy, wary and silent.

Lloyd finally turned around, and, looking him in the eye, something inside him had changed.

"I don't care how many people give up on her, or me, or any of us!"

Something had been released.

"There's no way I could ever… there's no possible way I could…"

Something had snapped.

"I could ever… _abandon_ them."

His last words were no louder than a choked whisper. He was shaking his head, his eyes tightly shut. He put one hand over them and wiped them dry. He finally said, "I hate that word. I _hate_ that word. It's what happened to me, and I'll be damned before I let it happen to anyone else."

Kratos' voice replied strongly and firmly, "Your parents died in an accident. They didn't—"

"Shut up and stop trying to… to feed me these _lies_!" He spat vehemently. "How stupid do you think I am?! Mom was _killed_ by Desians! And if my dad was killed by Desians, too, then why the hell is there only one grave?! Or, or why doesn't it say, 'Anna and… _whoever_, Rest in Peace'?!" Lloyd looked the auburn man in the eyes. "Because he gave up on me and mom! He _abandoned_ us! The bastard either let mom be killed by Desians, or wasn't even there in the first place!"

With great difficulty, he took in Lloyd's words, waiting patiently for the boy to calm down. He spoke gently, choosing his words carefully. "So… you believe your father is still alive somewhere? Naturally you would want to find him and confront him… and then what? What good would it do?"

Lloyd snorted, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't know. Maybe find out how well he'd sleep knowing his 'lost cause' is alive, but still lost to him." He muttered, "If he even cared."

Before he could reply, Lloyd said, "Agh, what does this all mean to you, anyway." He began walking down the path towards the inn with a sigh. "Just forget everything you've heard."

"No, it does mean something. Hopefully, that you were able to share this: something that's clearly bothering you, to say the least," Kratos corrected, approaching him with hard, unreadable eyes. "It means something to you as well."

Lloyd paused, eyes focused on the ground beneath his bare feet. He could feel his exhaustion slowly slithering through his limbs, and his mind began to haze over with lethargy. "Yeah, I guess so." He murmured. "But what would mean more… You're not going to give up on us, are you? You won't…?"

He froze. He needed to tell him what he needed to hear. "I won't abandon you, Lloyd." Even if he couldn't keep his word.

Kratos could see a ghost of a smile on his son's face. "Thanks,"

He didn't have the heart to respond. It was what Lloyd needed to hear, nothing more, nothing less.

It was what Lloyd needed to hear if he was to bear what tomorrow would bring.


End file.
